Booty Call
by Foreword
Summary: Mikka Von has been fired and sent packing, but it seems she's not quite finished with Detective Stabler.  Strong adult content.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Although Mikka Von (Paula Patton) was only in half of one episode of S12 SVU (Wet), she and Stabler seemed to have incredible chemistry in their few interactions and I've been wanting to write a smut piece with the two of them for some time. This is an AU piece; Elliot has never been married, Olivia is the one with a husband and family. _

_Thanks to Christina for the suggestion for the handcuffs. ;-)_

_Please let me know what you think. I'm thinking that Stabler & Von might need to hook up a few more times before she heads back to her sun-drenched loft in Chicago..._

**Booty Call**

"Stabler." Elliot barked into his phone. He was five minutes away from heading out the door and had hoped to escape on time tonight. It had been one long hell of a week and he wanted nothing more than to relax in front of the TV in his underwear with a cold beer. Olivia had left an hour earlier for a dinner with her in-laws; she had turned those big brown eyes on him and he had once again caved and agreed to do all of the paperwork. He really needed to learn how to say no.

"Hey, Stabler," said the sultry voice. There was no need for introduction, just the way she drew out his name announced that it was Mikka Von, the new A.D.A. who'd been fired that afternoon after less than a week on the job.

"Mikka," he said, trying not to sound surprised. He'd been disappointed when Cragen had informed her, on behalf of the District Attorney, that she'd been dismissed for trying an end run around the judge. It had been an error in judgment on her part, but an effective one that had bought them time to pursue their case. He liked her "take no hostages" attitude and thought she would have been interesting to work with in the long run.

"So, Stabler," she continued, again drawing out his name in a manner that caused an instant tightening in his groin, "since we're no longer co-workers, I wondered if you wanted to get together before I head back to Chicago in a few days."

"Uh, sure, when?" he asked, trying not to stammer. He found Von attractive, and thought he'd detected a spark of interest on her part as well, but her stay with SVU had been so brief there'd been no time to explore it.

"No time like the present," she laughed. "I'm staying at…." She gave him the details of her hotel. "Come on over whenever you can get away."

"Where do you want to go? Should I go home and change?"

Her seductive chuckle sent a flash of heat down his spine. "No need to dress up, Detective. I thought we'd stay in and"…a long, pregnant pause…."get to know each other a little better."

Elliot chuckled softly as he hung up. This was an unexpected but intriguing twist. Spending the evening with a beautiful, sexy and intelligent younger woman who was leaving town for good in a few days sounded a hell of a lot better than watching television alone. He finished up his last DD-5 and dropped it on Cragen's desk for review, then headed into the locker room for a quick shower and shave.

Munch came in just as he was tucking a clean shirt into a pair of jeans, both from the backup supply he kept in his locker. Sniffing the air appraisingly, he asked: "Cologne? Hot date again Stabler?"

Elliot laughed as he slipped his holster onto his belt and buckled it. "You overestimate my life outside of work, John." He said, picking up his badge and a pair of handcuffs and putting them into the pocket of his jacket. He'd been carrying all of this equipment for so long he felt naked without it, even off duty. A cop always needed to be prepared for running to an angry perp from a past arrest, or for stumbling across a crime in progress. It was part of the life.

"Details tomorrow please, my friend. I'll be anxiously waiting, as my own life is devoid of such activities at the moment." John said wryly as he walked toward the bathroom with a newspaper.

Still laughing, Elliot headed out of the precinct to his car. As he drove the short distance to the swanky hotel Von had named, he felt a stirring of excitement. He wasn't lying when he'd told John that his life outside of work was pretty tame; for the past few months, he'd been keeping close to home and not bothering to date. Maybe he was getting old, maybe he was just tired of the games, but more often than not, he preferred his own company. Getting what was essentially a booty call from a hot young babe might have been just what he needed to rouse him out of his ennui because he was feeling something he hadn't in a long time—anticipation.

Before he reached the hotel, he stopped at an upscale wine shop and bought an expensive bottle of Pinot Grigio. Von struck him as the type of woman who enjoyed the good things in life.

He parked in the garage attached to the hotel, wondering if Von could get the parking ticket validated so he didn't have to sell a kidney to get the car back out the next morning and then having a mental chuckle when he realized he was assuming he'd be spending the night. _Get over yourself, Stabler, she'll probably kick your sorry ass to the curb when she's done with you!_

Mikka had given him her room number but he stopped at the front desk anyway before heading to the bank of elevators. Hotels like this didn't take kindly to strangers wandering the halls and he wanted to be on someone's radar before going up. He wondered how an ADA had the money to stay in a place like this, even temporarily. She'd mentioned more than once how she had a "sun-drenched loft" back in Chicago on the market, although her sudden dismissal would be cancelling the need for _that_ real estate transaction.

"Ms. Von is in room 813, sir," said the desk clerk, eying Elliot's casual attire with disdain. He resisted an urge to open his jacket wide enough to flash his gun. Oddly enough, that always seemed to garner instant respect.

He tapped lightly on the door and waited just a few seconds before he saw a shadow at the peephole and the door swung open.

"I thought you'd never get here, Stabler," said Mikka. She wore a pair of form fitting Capri length black pants topped by a silky white camisole. Her feet were bare. Elliot had only ever seen her dressed for court; this casual attire made her look years younger and he had a moment's pause _What in the hell are you doing here, old man? _ before he handed her the bottle of wine.

"Had to finish up some paperwork," he told her. She turned the bottle over to read the label.

"Not bad," she said, impressed. "I didn't know you were a wine connoisseur."

"It's a requirement for the detective exam," he said with a deadpan expression. She laughed appreciatively and stepped aside, motioning toward the sitting area across the room. "

His cop eyes scanned the room as he crossed the floor, noting the king sized bed and catching a glimpse of what appeared to be a Jacuzzi through the half-opened door of the adjoining bathroom. It wasn't quite a suite, but neither was it a Motel 6. A small sofa and two chairs faced a wall almost entirely of glass, with doors that opened onto a balcony that overlooked the city. On a low table in front of the couch was an ice bucket with an open bottle of wine. Mikka took the bottle out and turned it to show Elliot that it was the same label he had just handed her.

"You've got good taste," she laughed. He liked her wide smile and the way her eyes crinkled in the corners when she laughed. He watched as she poured a glass for him and topped off the one she'd evidently been drinking before he arrived. As she bent to put the bottle back in the ice and make room for the he had a fine view of her tight behind and felt a stirring in his groin. It had been awhile.

"Are you going to take off your coat and stay for awhile, Stabler? "She teased, turning and catching him staring at her ass. Her smile broadened as she took her glass to sit on the couch and curled her bare feet up under her. She patted the spot next to her. "I won't bite.

"Are you ever going to use my first name?" he asked. He took a sip of the chilled wine, which _was_ very good, even to a confirmed beer drinker like himself. Setting the glass down on the table, he slipped his jacket off. Von's eyes widened when she saw his gun.

"Are you expecting to have to defend yourself?" she asked with a look of amusement. He unbuckled the holster and set his gun, along with his badge and handcuffs, on top of his coat in one of the arm chairs.

"I like to be prepared," he said with a smile. "I hear girls from the Windy City can be pretty aggressive."

She tossed back her head and laughed in delight, a move that exposed her neck. Her skin was the color of heavily creamed coffee and he had a sudden desire to tongue the length of her neck to see how she tasted.

"Don't worry, I won't hurt you-much." She grinned at him from the other side of the couch and slid one of her bare feet across the short distance between them to rest against his leg. He took the hint and put one broad hand on her ankle, sliding it up to the hem of her pants. Her legs were one of the first things he had noticed about her when she strode into the precinct, full of sass and attitude. Her toes were painted a pearly pink with swirls of white and he traced his thumb across the surface.

"Fancy," he commented with a wry smile. "Can I ask you a question?"

She tipped her head to the side, appraising him. Again, a great view of the long café-au-lait neck; he'd always found himself turned on by the less obvious aspects of a woman's body: neck, ankles and the dip at the back of a waist. He shifted a little on the couch as he felt his cock begin to respond in appreciation. "Are you going to interrogate me, Detective?"

He laughed. She was a piece of work. "How old are you, Mikka?"

Again, she gave him an appraising look. "Does it matter?" At his raised eyebrow, she gave a soft a laugh. "I'm thirty-one, old enough to know what I want."

He nodded. He hadn't been quite sure. With less makeup and casually dressed, she could easily pass for her early twenties, but to be an experienced attorney, she had to be a little older than that. Thirty-one was good. At least he wasn't old enough to be her father.

"And quid pro quo, Detective-how old are _you_?" Again, she gave him a wide smile that crinkled the corners of her dark brown, almost black eyes and caused him to shift in his seat again.

"Forty-seven," he told her, gauging her reaction. She didn't appear to be put off and he heaved a mental sigh of relief. To be sent packing now would be a more than a little disappointing.

She picked up his left hand from his leg and held it in her own, palm up, circling his ring finger with her index finger. "The scuttlebutt at the station is that you've never been married."

"You were asking about me?" he said in surprise. Von had been with them for less than a week. She'd evidently been busy in that short amount of time.

"Oh, you know," she said vaguely. "Girls talk. Why? Why didn't you ever marry?"

He shrugged. "This job isn't a very good fit with marriage."

"Your partner has a family." She observed.

"And I've seen how hard it's been for her to juggle both. That's not for me."

She nodded and began to trace slow circles in the palm of his hand with one long manicured nail. "Lucky for me, I guess."

He took another sip—a big one –of wine. He wasn't quite used to a woman being so direct; there was nothing subtle about Mikka Von. He realized he would have to make a decision and soon—either he wanted to assert some control over the situation, or sit back and enjoy the ride. As he sipped, he decided on the latter. As a single man, he'd spent enough time pursuing women. It might be nice to be on the receiving end for a change.

Mikka set her own glass of wine down on the table next to her and slid across the couch to Elliot. She gracefully maneuvered herself until she was facing him with her back to the window behind them. She placed one open palm on his chest and looked him straight in the eye.

"We're both adults here, Elliot," Hearing her finally say his first name in that sultry voice sent another flash of heat along his spine. He held her gaze, noticing the flecks of gold in her dark eyes. She was a very beautiful woman. "I think we both know what we want. Shall we have some fun?"

He nodded, dry-mouthed and watched her face as she began to slowly open his shirt, one button at a time, all the while looking into his eyes. When the shirt was open to his waist, she slipped her hand inside and began stroking his chest with slow, circling motions, her fingers brushing against his nipples which were growing as hard as his cock. He felt like a teenager. As she bent her head to kiss him, he slipped a hand behind her long, straight dark hair to cup the back of her neck and pull her closer. Her lips were soft and full and her tongue darted out to meet his.

"Mmmm…." She said in a husky whisper, her breath warm against his mouth. "I've wanted to do that since I first laid eyes on you at the precinct. And then, when you came to help me with the press at the courthouse today, well, I just knew I had to have you."

Elliot was beginning to feel like a hunted animal, but he wasn't about to lodge a complaint. With his hand still at the back of her neck, he leaned forward and began kissing along the length of her neck, darting his tongue out to moisten the trail. She smelled and tasted as exotic as she looked. Mikka closed her eyes and tipped her head back, allowing him access and a chance to watch her. There was a dark flush spreading on her chest above her camisole and her breathing had quickened.

After a minute or two, she lazily opened her eyes and pushed him back against the sofa. He leaned back and watched as she pulled the tails of his shirt out of his jeans and pushed it off his shoulders. When she caught sight of the crucifix tattoo on his upper arm, she practically cooed with delight.

"Surprises," she murmured, bending to moisten the outline with her tongue. Elliot couldn't wait for her reaction to the butterfly on his hip. As she played with his tattoo with her tongue, he put his hands on her waist and pulled her onto his lap. She quickly moved to straddle him and he almost regretted his action when her weight settled onto his cock, hard and already uncomfortable confined within his jeans. She wiggled for a minute, enjoying his obvious discomfort, and then to his incredible relief, reached down to his waist to unbuckle his belt. She paused to rub her hand along the length of his erection through his jeans.

"I knew you'd be big," she sighed, a small smile playing across her face. "A girl can tell."

He wasn't about to debate the point as she unzippered his pants and freed him with a broad smile as her statement was confirmed. Wanting to equalize the playing field a bit, he reached for the hem of her camisole and pulled it over her head with one swift movement. The bra she wore underneath was little more than a few slips of lace; it took only a second to undo the front clasp and send it flying to the floor along with her top.

Her breasts were exquisite, small but perfectly formed, with dark aureole and small rosy nipples. He bent his head and teased each into a hard point with his tongue. Mikka gave a contented sigh and stroked the back of his neck with languid fingers.

It was getting awkward, two semi-clothed adults on a small couch, trying their best to explore uncharted waters with limited success. "Shall we move?" Elliot suggested, nodding his head toward the king sized bed on the other side of the room.

Mikka smiled, sliding off his lap and holding out her hand. Elliot kicked off his shoes and socks and slipped out of his jeans as he stood and followed her across the room. As she passed the armchair where he'd emptied his pockets, she bent swiftly and picked up something with a metallic clink. His cop instincts kicked into gear for just a second as he thought she was going for his gun, but when she dangled his handcuffs in front of him, he relaxed. Until she said, with a mischievous grin, "These could be fun."

After years of investigating sex crimes, dominating women was not something Elliot found even remotely stimulating. "No," he said softly, reaching for the cuffs. "You don't want me to use those on you."

"On me?" she laughed, a tone like the tinkle of wind chimes, holding the cuffs behind her back. "I was thinking of using them on _you_, Detective!"

He reached for the cuffs again. "I don't think so," he said with an uneasy chuckle. He was beginning to feel more than a little out of his league here. Why had he stopped seeing that nice receptionist from the dentist's office again? _Because she was boring_, he thought. _But this is a whole other story…_

Mikka pointed toward the bed and headed toward the bathroom, still holding the cuffs. "Make yourself comfortable, Elliot. I'll be right back."

He turned down the white silk duvet and blankets and stretched out on the bed, folding his hands behind his head as he watched for her to return. It was a sink or swim moment. Part of him was more than a little intrigued to see what she had in mind; the rest of him was screaming at the thought of being so _not_ in control of a situation. He glanced behind him at the headboard of the Mission-Style bed and tested one of the slats. Not too sturdy, he could break one if he had to. _Am I really considering this?_ _Christ, Stabler—you're turning into a dirty old man!_

Feeling apprehensive was not doing much for his recently thriving erection. He slid his hand down and began stroking himself as he waited for Mikka to return, trying to think about anything but those handcuffs. A moment later, she came out of the bathroom without warning. The sight of him in mid-stroke put another broad grin on her face. To his dismay, he saw she was no longer carrying just _his_ pair of handcuffs, but a second pair as well.

"Getting the party started without me, Ell-i-iot?" she teased. The way she drew out the syllables of his name, combined with the sight of her totally nude body, all tawny skin with just a thin strip of dark hair visible between her legs brought his cock right back to life. He was embarrassed that she'd caught him stroking himself, but too proud and stubborn to show it, so he continued with a few slow, measured movements, all the while holding her gaze.

Totally comfortable with her nudity, she strolled over to the bed and stood next to him, dangling the handcuffs.

"Where'd you get the second pair?" he asked, pulling himself to a sitting position against the headboard. They were clearly police-issue cuffs, not the imitations sold in sex shops.

"Oh, I've got cop friends back in Chicago, "She said vaguely, sitting down next to him on the bed. "So what do you think, Stabler? You up for a little strange?"

He met her gaze. Part of him wanted to run from the room at the thought of giving up that much control to another person but another part wanted to show this gorgeous young babe that he wasn't a stuffy old fart.

She read the hesitation on his face. "We'll use a safe word," she assured him. "If it gets too be too much for you, you say the word and I'll take them off."

_Too much? What the hell does she have him mind? _ He shook his head in amusement at her. "You've done this before?"

"I'll admit, it's one of my favorite fantasies," she told him, reaching out a hand to his hard chest. She followed the line of dark hair that tapered down to below his abdomen, her hand absently brushing against his erection. His cock throbbed in response. "What do you say, hmmm? Our safe word could be… "enough"…does that work for you?"

He hesitated, and the reluctantly nodded. She rewarded him with another one of those broad smiles that showed her perfect white teeth and leaned in to give him a kiss full of tongue. Her breasts pressed against his chest and he fought a groan. He sincerely hoped he could last long enough to fulfill her fantasy role.

She flipped a cuff open and gently placed one end against his wrist and closed it, being careful not to make it too tight. "Better scoot over to the middle of the bed," she advised. He complied, and slid down on his back as she raised his arm up over his head and snapped the other end around a slat. He wondered idly if she chose her hotels based on the style of furniture in the rooms.

"How about just one?" he suggested as she reached for the other arm to repeat the procedure. This was starting to seem really weird. He was as aroused as he'd ever been, but also starting to feel a sense of panic.

"Ell-i-ot" she scolded, moving so that she was straddling him. The thin strip of hair between her legs tickled against his stomach and he unconsciously raised his hips so that his cock brushed against her perfect ass. "Go big or go home, that's what I always say."

He laughed in spite of himself and didn't protest as she fastened the second cuff. She sat back on her heels, lightly resting on his upper thighs.

"There, that's not so bad, is it?" she asked with that tinkling laugh. She leaned forward so that her body was laying lightly over his. Her breasts settled against his chest and his rock hard erection was trapped between their bodies. He shook his head, not sure that he was capable of speech right then. She gave him another wet, probing kiss, then began working her way down his body, pressing moist kisses along his neck, collarbone and chest. Her tongue darted out to explore his nipples and then he couldn't stop the moan that escaped his lips. He lifted his hips to bring his aching cock into more direct contact with her body, but she kept herself just that much above him that all he got was a fleeting brush.

Her lips and tongue continued down his flat abdomen with a playful dip into his navel before moving lower. When she caught sight of the butterfly tattoo on the front of his hip, she looked up at him, grinning.

"You're full of surprises, Stabler." She used to her tongue to give this second tattoo the same treatment she had the first. Her long dark hair was covering her face and he wished now for a free hand to lift it so he could watch as she rubbed her cheek softly against his cock before giving it an exploratory lick along the underside.

"Ah…Mikka…" he mumbled when she took him into her mouth, running her tongue around the edge of the sensitive head before bending her head to fully engulf as much of his length as she could manage. As erotic as it was to be the one being serviced, it was killing him to not be able to touch her. She looked up at him, dark eyes dancing with laughter as she continued to apply up and down pressure with her lips and tongue. The sight of her full lips smiling around his thick cock was almost enough to send him over the edge and he fought to for control, turning his attention to look helplessly at his wrists chained to the headboard.

He'd put restraints on plenty of suspects and had one cuff on himself as well on more than a few occasions when the need for security was high, but this was a totally different experience. Even though the cuffs were loose, he was reminded of their presence every time he moved and the metal bit into his wrists. He forced himself to lay still and watch the top of her bobbing dark head, willing himself not to come yet.

Just when he thought he was going to explode despite his intentions, she lifted her head and smiled up at him, licking her lips. "Enjoying yourself, Elliot?" she purred.

"Come here," he said with a hoarse whisper. He wanted to kiss those lips, to taste himself on her.

She moved her way up his body and obliged him. "Care to return the favor?" she asked and when he nodded his assent, she raised herself so that her moist center was poised over his mouth. He tipped his chin up and darted out his tongue to explore her depths. Mikka gave a moan of contentment and put her hands on the headboard to steady herself as he did the best he could manage given his limited mobility.

"I want to touch you," he said after a minute, rattling one hand cuff against the bed to get her attention. She looked down at him with hooded eyes.

"You're doing just fine," she said, her voice sounding strained. "Don't stop, please don't stop,"

He renewed his efforts, alternating long licks with a circular motion and a flick of the tip of his tongue against her sensitive clit. Her heavy breathing told him he was on the right track and after a few minutes he felt her stiffen and moan as she clasped the headboard and road out the waves of an orgasm.

"Uncuff me?" he asked when she composed herself and looked down at him with a satisfied smile. He wanted to hold her, run his hands through her long hair, flip her over and drive into her until he felt his own release. He ached with the need to be inside her.

"Not quite yet," she said softly. She slid back down, leaving a moist trail where her wet folds met his body. She rubbed herself against his aching hardness, causing him to groan and close his eyes briefly as she reached across him to the bedside stand to retrieve a condom.

"You're prepared." He smiled weakly at her, moistening his dry lips with his tongue as she opened the foil packet with her teeth and tossed it aside. He stashed a few in the pocket of his jeans, but in his haste to get on with their activities, had neglected to bring them over to the bed. He was glad he hadn't needed to bring it up, nothing like a belated discussion of safe sex to squash the romance right out of a moment, but he'd seen too much in his years a member of the "Sex Police" to ever go unprotected.

"A regular Girl Scout, that's me." She quipped. She made the act of putting the condom on as erotic as she did everything else, taking her time as she slowly unrolled it over his length, stroking him with her finger and thumb closed in a circle to move the latex into place.

When she finally straddled his hips and took his cock in her hand to position him at her entrance, he wanted to give a shout of relief. _Finally!_ She took her time, smiling mischievously at him as she so slowly eased down his length. He gave a satisfied groan when he was at last fully inside her, feeling his balls in contact with her firm behind.

"That feels sooo good," he told her. She said nothing, but held his gaze with her dark eyes, leaning forward and resting her hands on his shoulders as she began to move up and down, rotating her hips. He thrust up to meet her. It was mind bogglingly frustrating to not be able to use his hands, but it also forced him to find other ways to make contact. He turned his head to kiss and lick at the insides of her wrists on his shoulders as she brought him to a blissful explosion of a climax with a guttural moan that the desk clerk in the lobby could probably hear.

"Enough!" he exclaimed when he finally caught his breath. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had such an intense climax, but he'd had enough of being confined. He wanted to be back in and a part of this game. She laughed in delight and still holding him tight inside of her, reached for the bedside drawer again.

"Hmm, now where did I leave those damn keys?"


	2. Chapter 2

Elliot tried to stifle a yawn, but Olivia saw it and gave him an annoyed look. "Geez, Stabler, you've been doing that all afternoon, why don't you go take a nap in the crib before you pass out? I'm going to head home in a few minutes anyway; there isn't anything more we can do until Monday morning."

* * *

><p>He had woken in the wee hours of the morning to the sensation of fingernails running lightly up and down the insides of his thighs. It had taken him a few panicked seconds to realize where he was—still in Mikka Von's hotel room. After she'd finally found the keys to the handcuffs and released him, they'd ordered room service and finished the bottles of wine. He'd only been asleep a few hours when she decided that a special wake-up call was in order.<p>

After another round of spectacular sex he'd dozed off again, only to be woken by the sound of his cell phone in his jacket across the room.

"Where in the hell are you?" barked Olivia. "We agreed to meet at the precinct at 10:30 to go over the  
>Elding files to see if we missed anything."<p>

Elliot picked up his watch from the nightstand: it was 10:45.

"Sorry, Liv," he said quickly. "I over slept, I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Over slept WHERE?" she scoffed. "I stopped by your apartment at 10 with coffee, and you weren't there."

"Um, I'll be right there," he said again, and flipped the phone shut.

Mikka was propped on her elbows in the bed, the top sheet just barely covering her breasts. She looked like a cat that'd just lapped up a bowl of cream, satisfied and content.

"Good morning," Elliot smiled down at her as he started searching for his clothes. "Do you mind if I use your shower? I was supposed to meet Liv at the precinct a few minutes ago."

Mikka raised her eyebrows. "Working on a Saturday, Detective Stabler?"

Elliot gave a derisive snort. "Only you ADA's work Monday to Friday jobs, Ms Von."

"Former ADA," Mikka reminded him with a sigh, climbing out of bed and coming to wrap her arms around him. She pressed her naked body up against his. "Don't you have time for…breakfast…before you go?"

Shaking his head but admiring her persistence, Elliot gave her a quick kiss and headed toward the bathroom with his clothes. When he came out, Mikka was wrapped in a short silk robe and holding a cup of coffee out to him. He accepted it gratefully.

"I'm sorry to have to rush off," He told her, and meant it. He'd really enjoyed the evening before, and not just for the amazing sex. Mikka was the most vital woman he'd been with in a long time.

"How about you make it up to me later?" She suggested, tipping up her face for a final kiss.

"I'll call you when I'm finished at the precinct," Elliot promised, and bolted out the door.

* * *

><p>Olivia had tried to worm out of him where he'd been all night, especially after John came in and asked how his hot date had been, but Elliot managed to dodge both of their questions. He was glad he had changed clothes before going to see Mikka so she didn't' see him still wearing what he'd worked in the day before. He was never entirely comfortable talking about his love life with Olivia. There had always been a subtle tension between them; she was an attractive woman and he couldn't help but wonder what might have developed had she not been already married when she started at the precinct. Over the years they'd become close; closer than most partners, better than friends, but never crossing the line to anything sexual or romantic. There were problems in Olivia's marriage at times, mostly due to the stress of the job, but Elliot had always been careful to maintain a safe distance. Still, talking about his sex life just wasn't comfortable—it almost felt like he was…cheating. That made no sense, Olivia went home to her husband every night, yet it still felt wrong. So he took the easiest route and just pretended that he didn't <em>have<em> a love life when Olivia was around.

Now she was clearly fed up with getting no answers and watching him yawn.

"I'll see you on Monday morning," she said, picking up her coat from the back of the chair. "Try to get some sleep before then so you're not totally useless then too, okay?"

Elliot tried to think of a snappy retort but he was just too damn tired and besides, she was already gone. Yawning again, he decided to take her advice. The thought of driving home to his own bed made him feel even more exhausted. He went into the crib and stretched out on his favorite cot, planning to cat nap before going home to shower and call Mikka. She would be gone on Monday; he wanted to make the most of the time they had left.

"Elliot, wake up!" John was shaking his arm and hissing at him. "Someone is here to see you."

Elliot blinked up at him from the bottom bunk. He'd been deep in a dream about being tied to a telephone pole while a dark haired woman dripped honey over him.

"What? Who?" he sat up, scrubbing at his eyes in an effort to clear the sleep fog from his brain. He glanced at his watch and saw that it was almost seven in the evening.

"I think you'd better see for yourself."

After splashing water on his face in the bathroom, Elliot went out to the squad room and stopped dead in his tracks.

Mikka Von sat at his desk, legs crossed, twirling idly back and forth in his chair. She wore tight jeans, high heeled black boots and a short black leather jacket over a form fitting low cut white t-shirt. She looked incredible.

John sat smirking at his desk, pretending not to watch while Elliot strode over to his desk to greet her. Elliot gave an inward groan at the thought of the ribbing he'd be taking on this for months to come.

"Hey," he said, bending down to give her a quick kiss, hoping that by having his back to John he'd block his view. The subsequent cough and throat clearing across the room told him he had failed. "What are you doing here?"

"I got tired of waiting for you to call and thought maybe I could hurry things along if I stopped by." She said, smiling up at him from his chair. She used the pointed toe of one boot to continue the momentum of the chair, back and forth, while she looked at him with amusement crinkling the corners of her dark eyes. "Besides, I wanted to see the squad room one more time before I leave for good."

"I fell asleep in the crib for awhile," he said sheepishly, keeping his voice low so that John wouldn't hear. "For some odd reason, I didn't get much sleep last night."

She gave a laugh of delight, a sound like delicate champagne glasses breaking over a velvet tablecloth. "Are you all rested now?" She asked with a grin.

Elliot yawned. "I guess so…do you want to go grab something to eat? "

"Can we go to a cop bar?" she asked, rising out of his chair. "I love cop bars."

"Sure," Elliot laughed, grabbing his jacket from the back of the chair she had just vacated. "Murphy's has great burgers."

John was pretending to be busy at his desk when they walked by, but Elliot recognized amusement in the set of his eyebrows. Oh yes, he was going to pay for this one. "We're going to Murphy's to grab a bite to eat." He told him, stopping in front of his desk. "Want to join us?"

"What?" John acted like he was startled out of deep concentration. "Oh no, but thanks, you kids go ahead. I want to finish up this search before I call it a night."

"See you Monday," Elliot told him.

"Goodbye, Detective Munch," Mikka called over her shoulder. "It was a pleasure working with you."

As they walked away, Elliot hoped that Mikka didn't catch his _sotto voce_ response: "Oh, I think the pleasure was all Elliot's."

* * *

><p>They took a back booth at Murphy's and ordered a pitcher of beer to go with their burgers and fries, but the location didn't prevent a number of curious looks thrown Elliot's way. He was a regular at Murphy's, but no one had ever seen him there with any woman but Olivia.<p>

"So, what would you like to do tonight?" he asked Mikka after she had tasted her burger and pronounced it delicious. "Is there something in the city you didn't get to see while you're here?"

"You know where I would love to have you take me?" she asked, tipping her head to the side and giving him a coy look. "The shooting range."

"What?" Elliot asked, laughing in surprise. "Why on earth…?"

Mikka raised her shoulders in a shrug, which only served to emphasize the cleavage that her low cut tight tee revealed. "I don't know, I'd like to see you….use your weapon." She flashed him a brilliant smile.

Elliot picked up a French fry and shook his head in amusement. "Why am I getting the feeling that you have a thing for cops?"

"Is that a bad thing?" Mikka asked, still smiling. "I happen to like powerful men, that's all."

Elliot shook his head again. He'd never met anyone quite like Mikka Von. She could spin any situation to get what she wanted, while being so charming about it you couldn't be mad at her. "Do you still have your ID from the DA's office?"

Mikka reached into her purse and pulled out the badge that allowed access to the courtroom and police precincts. "Yes," she said. "That's why I can't leave until Monday, I have to turn all of this stuff in and…" she wrinkled up her nose "…sign my severance papers."

"Okay," he said, pointing to her plate. "Finish your dinner and we'll go out to the range before they close at ten."

* * *

><p>"Like this?" Mikka positioned her hands on the pistol like Elliot had shown her. He reached around her to adjust her fingers, and then nodded, checking her protective headgear to make sure her ears were covered.<p>

"Go ahead, squeeze the trigger, slow and steady," he told her, speaking into the mike that allowed them to communicate with the headgear on.

She pulled the trigger, closing her eyes as she did so. Her shot didn't even clip the paper human form that hung at the end of the booth. She stomped her foot in frustration. It was her third attempt and she had yet to hit the target.

"Stop closing your eyes!" Elliot laughed. He positioned himself behind her and lined her arms up again. She leaned back into him, pressing her behind into his crotch. He chuckled and stepped back just a hair. "Concentrate on what you're doing," he admonished.

This time she clipped the target on the shoulder, causing her to whoop with delight. Over the next few rounds, her aim got progressively better until she was able to hit the core of the body. Elliot was loading a new magazine when the lights flashed to indicate that the facility was closing down in five minutes.

"Oh, but I was just getting _good_," Mikka pouted. Elliot handed her back the gun.

"One last round," he told her. She emptied the magazine into the target, managing to get a few goods shots.

"Take that, you nasty perp," she crowed, handing the empty weapon back to Elliot. He laughed and took her headgear to return to the manager of the range on the way out.

"That was so much fun!" she told him on the way to his car. "I was pretty good, wasn't I?"

"Maybe you should change professions," Elliot humored her. They were at the passenger side of his vintage black Mustang and he leaned in to kiss her. "You'd look pretty hot in a uniform."

She wrapped her arms around his neck, chuckling into his ear. "You think so, Detective Stabler? Would I be as hot as your partner Olivia?"

He ignored the reference. People were always assuming that a male and female working so closely together had to have something happening on the side and he had learned long ago to not pay attention. Instead, he slipped his hands down to Mikka's ass, pulling her tight against him. "What now?" he asked nuzzling her neck. "Shall we go back to your hotel?"

In one swift move, Mikka lifted her legs and wrapped them around his waist. Surprised, he leaned in so that the car supported some of her weight, which put his groin in even closer contact to hers. He felt himself growing hard.

"I don't know if I can wait that long," Mikka purred into ear. She began to kiss him, using teeth and tongue, nibbling his lip, his ear lobe, his neck. "I think I like playing cop."

"Ahem…Goodnight, Stabler," coughed a voice a few feet away. Elliot snapped his head up to see Sergeant Pierce, the manager of the shooting range, walking to his car.

"Uh, Good night, Phil," Elliot called, "Thanks for everything." He was glad for the semi-darkness of the parking lot but realized that Pierce had seen plenty. Von was putting a major dent in his reputation, but at the moment, as she giggled and ground her crotch into his erection, he couldn't have cared less.

"Get in the car," he ordered in a low voice, reaching in his pocket for the keys. She unwrapped her legs and slid them down his body to stand, stepping aside so he could unlock her door. When he opened it for her and waited, she laughed.

"I'll think it will be more comfortable with you on the bottom," she said and waited for him to get in. Elliot glanced around the parking lot and saw that, with Phil's taillights already halfway down the road, they were now alone. He glanced in the car. There was no back seat to speak of in the Mustang, and the gear shift limited the space in the front. _What the hell? Why not?_

He lowered himself into the seat and used the lever to push the seat back as far as it would go and then reclined it. Mikka climbed in, straddling his lap, and as soon as he pulled the door shut behind her, began tugging at his belt buckle. While she worked to free him, he reached his hands up under her t-shirt and began to knead her breasts, bending to nip at one already hard nipple through the thin fabric. She gave a soft moan and stopped what she was doing to slip off her leather jacket. Elliot reached up to pull the shirt off over her head with one swift motion, sending her brassiere to join it in the back seat a second later.

It was the most erotic sight he had ever seen. The one dim light of the parking lot was across the lot and behind Mikka, putting her face in shadow but leaving her flawless breasts fully visible. A half-naked beauty sitting on his a lap in the car he'd worked years to restore was like having a wet dream come to life; all he wanted to do was be inside of her and _now._ He pushed her hands aside and quickly freed his achingly hard cock, and then reached for the waistband of her jeans. It was a comedy of errors as they worked to free her of her boots and pants in the confined space but neither of them were laughing.

Finally, _finally_, she was totally naked. Elliot gasped as she straddled him again and took his cock in her hand, poising herself over it.

"Oh God," he groaned as he remembered, his hands on her hips holding her still for a moment. "There's a condom in my front pocket, can you reach it?"

With a sigh of frustration, Mikka began fumbling in his pockets. While she ripped open the packet, Elliot slipped his fingers into her wet folds, finding her clit and circling it with his thumb. She moaned in response, moving her hips in counter circles to his motion as she hastily rolled the condom down over his cock. As soon as it was on, she pushed his hands aside and impaled herself on his erection. She was so wet it was only took a moment before he was totally engulfed. He reached up to cup her breasts as she ground herself into him, gasping as he raised his hips to meet her.

"Elliot," she moaned, tossing her head back so that her long, dark hair brushed against his thighs. "Elliot, I'm …." Her voice trailed off as her body tensed and she surrendered to her climax. The sight of her long neck bared before him and her face contorted in the agony of pleasure brought him right along with her.

They sat in the car, Mikka collapsed against him, his face buried in her hair, panting as they came back to earth.

"You are amazing," he whispered when he had enough breath, brushing her hair aside and placing a trail of kisses down her exquisite neck. "Are you sure you have to go back to Chicago so soon?"


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Minimal smut. Have to save something for the final chapter. grin

Elliot woke to the sensation of a warm body pressed against his side and hair tickling his nose. Opening his eyes, he smiled at the sight of Mikka curled up next to him, her long dark hair spread over both of their pillows. It wasn't often that he had overnight guests at his apartment; if he spent the night with a woman, he generally preferred to do it at her place. After their evening of fun at the shooting range, Mikka had insisted on seeing where he lived, and as with everything else, she could be very persuasive.

He brushed her hair off his face, and gently eased out of bed. Mikka sighed in her sleep and rolled over, burying her head in his pillow. He stood looking down at her for a moment. She was a beautiful woman and he had to admit, he liked the sight of her in his bed. It had been awhile since anyone had filled that spot. As he grew older, he found it harder to maintain the energy for long-term relationships, preferring to date here and there when he felt the need for companionship. It had never been a deliberate decision on his part to not marry or settle down; he had just never met anyone he cared enough about who could put up with his job and all of the baggage that came with it. Now, here was someone who understood the demands and wasn't intimidated by any of it, an intelligent and vibrant woman who made him feel more alive than he had in years. Unfortunately, she was almost twenty years younger and lived 700 miles away.

Shaking his head ruefully, he bent down to pick his boxer briefs off the floor and pulled them on before heading to the kitchen to make breakfast. This was going to be Mikka's last day in New York and he wanted to make it memorable. Tomorrow she'd be turning in her credentials and flying back to Chicago.

He had just finished setting up a tray with place settings for two when she came into the kitchen area dressed in nothing but the t-shirt he'd discarded the night before. This small intimacy caused a sudden flip in his stomach. _Get a grip, Stabler; you're acting like a moon-struck teenager!_

"Is that _bacon_ I smell?" she asked, giving him a hug and a lingering kiss. Her breath smelled like the mouthwash from his bathroom and he smiled at the thought of her using his things. "I haven't had bacon in _ages_." She wrapped her arms around his neck and smiled up at him. "You're just full of surprises, Stabler. Good in bed _and_ in the kitchen."

He laughed in spite of himself. "Only good?" he asked, sliding his hands down to her ass to pull her close as he returned her kiss. She wore nothing under the t-shirt and when he hands encountered bare skin, it sent a stab of heat through his groin. "Didn't your mother teach you to get dressed before you came to the table?" He reached over with one hand to turn the gas off under the pan of bacon, and then returned his attention to stroking the smooth skin of her behind. She nestled in close to him with a soft laugh, one hand splayed against his bare chest, the other sliding down to stroke his rapidly hardening cock.

"I didn't know there was a dress code, Stabler."

"There is." He informed her with a deadpan expression before reaching for the hem of the shirt to raise it over her head. "It's all or nothing in this kitchen."

It was another hour before they got back to the kitchen for breakfast. Elliot let the bacon finish cooking while he scrambled eggs and made French toast. Mikka sat at the small table, sipping coffee and watching. Her long hair was darker than ever, wet from the shower they'd just taken together. Elliot wasn't sure if he'd ever look at his bathroom in the same way again.

"I wouldn't have expected you to be so…domestic," she told him, looking around the kitchen. His apartment was in a converted warehouse on the Lower East side. It consisted of an open living space with a kitchen at one end. The bedroom and a small bathroom were located just off the kitchen. The most remarkable feature of the apartment was an atrium that ran the length of the living room area with curved glass panes that stretched from ceiling to floor. It was obvious that was where Elliot spent most of his time. All of the furniture was in the atrium except for a large screen television and comfortable couch that sat opposite the kitchen area. Waist high bookcases separated the living space from the atrium, where there was a battered oak table and chairs, two overstuffed chairs on either side of a round low table covered with newspapers and books. The comfortable chairs were strategically placed so that they had a perfect view of the television screen. Mikka could easily imagine Elliot lounging in one of the chairs, his feet propped on the table, drinking beer and watching a game.

The décor was neat and simple and definitely an all male zone. No curtains or frills or wall hangings other than a few framed black and white photographs in the entry way.

Elliot piled the food on plates and picked up the tray to carry it all to the oak table in the atrium. Mikka trailed behind him with her coffee cup, lightly touching the surfaces of the furniture with the tips of the fingers of her free hand as she passed by.

"How long have you lived here?" She asked, sitting down at the table. Elliot put a place setting in front of her and took the other for himself. She liked that he took the seat next to her, instead of across the table. Picking up a slice of bacon, she nibbled at it while leaning lightly against his shoulder. She loved his solid presence. It didn't escape her notice that he returned the pressure.

"Almost ten years." He picked up his fork and attacked his own food, suddenly ravenous. "It's a bit of a commute to the precinct, but I like it."

"It's a great space," she told him, smiling. "It's very…you."

He laughed as he speared a piece of bacon. "Is that a tactful way of saying old and rundown?"

She bumped his shoulder with her own. "Don't' put words in my mouth, Stabler. That's not what I meant at all."

"I know," he said softly, leaning over to kiss her. "I'm not very good at taking compliments. Even about my apartment."

They took their time over the meal, eating , talking and browsing through the Sunday paper that Elliot had retrieved from his doorstep. He tried not to think about how much he was enjoying her company; Mikka would be gone in another day.

"What would you like to do on your last day in the city?" He asked as they finally got up from the table and began carrying dishes back to the kitchen.

"You don't have to entertain me, Stabler. I'll just go back to the hotel and pack."

He piled the dishes in the sink for later and reached out to pull her close. "I asked you a question—what do you want to do today? What haven't you seen?"

She leaned back against the cradle of his arms, watching his face closely to measure his reaction. "Well, if you really insist….I've never been to the Statue of Liberty."

He started to laugh and then realized she was totally serious. "Okay then. The Statue of Liberty it is."


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N It's been fun writing about this pairing, but it's time for Von to head back to her sun drenched loft in Chicago. Thanks to Munchkin_79 for the idea of a webcam and cyber sex, soon to be explored in her own story __Cyber._

Elliot sat at his desk, stifling a yawn. He'd enjoyed the weekend with Mikka, but sleep had not been high on their list of priorities. They'd spent her last day in New York playing tourist—taking the ferry to Ellis Island and the Statue of Liberty. He'd said goodbye at her suite at the hotel in the wee hours of the morning, and driven himself home for a few hours of sleep and a quick shower before coming into work. He glanced at his watch. Mikka was probably at the courthouse right now, wrapping things up before heading to the airport for her afternoon flight back to Chicago and her sundrenched loft.

"Earth to Stabler," said a voice in front of him. Elliot took his feet off his desk and sat up straight, blinking up at the tall figure standing at his desk.

"Fin and I are going to go grab some lunch." Munch reported now that he had his attention. "Do you want us to bring back something for you? Cragen's out so we can't all leave at the same time. You drew the short straw."

Elliot gave a short bark of a laugh. "That's ok. Yeah, grab me a sandwich; I'll pay you when you get back." There was no need to be more specific with his order; everyone in the squad knew that he always ate the same thing, roast beef and provolone on light rye, with horseradish and red onions.

"Will do."

Elliot went back to sifting through the stack of pictures on his desk, trying to find clues as to who had put the poisonous mushrooms in Lisa Edeling's salad. He barely noticed when his co-workers left.

He had finished sorting out the pictures into two piles: ones with and without Edeling in them, when he heard footsteps tapping across the tile floor. Irritated, he glanced up, surprised that the uni's downstairs hadn't buzzed him to let him know they were sending someone up. Fin and Munch would have let them know on their way out that he was the only one on duty. SOP was to call ahead and then escort a civilian up when a detective was alone.

It wasn't just any civilian and as soon as he saw her, Elliot knew she had sweet-talked her way past the guys at reception downstairs. If anyone could get her way, it was Mikka. She was wearing tight black pants and black boots, topped by a long cream-colored jacket that accented her dark hair. Her face broke into a wide grin when she saw him.

Elliot stood and went to meet her, a smile spreading across his own face. He was ridiculously pleased to see her. They had both skirted the top of the future when they'd said goodbye at the hotel, knowing that distance and Mikka's uncertain employment status made the possibility of a relationship difficult.

"Hey," he said, putting one arm around her waist and pulling her close for a kiss. "I thought you'd be on your way to the airport by now."

"It didn't take me as long as I expected at the courthouse," she explained. "They were so eager to get rid of me they had all of the paperwork ready. And then I got a text saying that my flight was delayed." She motioned with the hand holding her cell phone. "So….I thought I'd drop by and say goodbye-again." She laughed, tossing her head back and showing that long neck he liked so much. Elliot felt a knot in the pit of his stomach. Not for the first time, he wished the DA hadn't terminated her so quickly. Things were a lot more interesting with Mikka Von around.

"Where is everybody?" she asked, looking around the empty room. She peered around him to Cragen's office. "Are you-alone?" She grinned up at him. He wasn't sure he liked where that grin was leading.

"Cragen's at 1PP and everyone else has gone to lunch," he explained, sitting on the edge of his desk and pulling her so that she was positioned between his legs. He reached up to brush her hair back from her face. He loved her long hair. "I'm glad you stopped by."

"Are you now?" Again, the grin. She moved in closer, her thighs pressed tight against the inside of his legs. She placed one open palm against the side of his face and leaned in to kiss him, her tongue darting out to find his. Elliot lost himself in the sensation for a quick moment before pulling away.

"Not here," he said, feeling his breath quickening. "Cragen, someone—they'll be back any minute."

"Then where?" Mikka asked, looking past his shoulder. Her eyes brightened and she reached for his hand, pulling him toward one of the interrogation rooms.

"You're crazy!" He laughed, but he went along with her anyway. He found it next to impossible to resist this woman. As they walked through the door to Interrogation One, he flipped the switch on the wall that turned the two-way mirror dark. No need to take any chances.

"I just want to give you a good bye you won't forget." Mikka said in a husky voice. She slipped her coat off her shoulders and draped it over the back of one of the chairs and turned to face him. Elliot pushed the door shut behind them. Without the overhead lights on, the room was dim, lit only by outside light filtering in through the small windows high in the wall. He reached for her and she molded herself to his body, tugging at his shirt to free it from his pants and then running her open palms up his back. He twisted his hands into her silky dark hair and pulled her face close for a lingering kiss. She tasted like mint and smelled like the hibiscus shampoo and shower gel he already knew she liked to use.

Elliot started to back her toward the table in the center of the room, but when Mikka felt the wooden edge against her backside, she put a hand against his chest to stop him and twisted away. She put her hands on his upper arms and turned him so that the table was behind him instead. Staring into his eyes, she reached for his belt buckle, a small smile on her full lips. Elliot put his hands out to brace himself against the heavy oak table and watched as she deftly unzippered his trousers and reached inside for his already hardening cock. He'd had more action in the past few days than he'd had in months and still his body responded like a teenage boy. He gave a low groan as he felt her hand wrap around him, stroking gently. Before he could gather enough composure to reach for her, she had dropped to her knees in front of him. "Mikka" he groaned, "You don't have to…" but the minute he felt her tongue lapping at him, he stopped any pretense of protest. As she worked him with her mouth and lips, she slipped one hand down to caress his balls and stroke the sensitive area behind them. Within minutes, he felt the familiar tightening that signaled impending release. He gasped her name in warning, but she ignored him, continuing her efforts. She stroked him with one hand and engulfed him with warm intensity and soon he was beyond the point of no return. He twisted his hands in her hair and gave a long, low moan as he shuddered and bucked against her.

When he regained a semblance of composure, he pulled her to her feet and wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in her neck and hair. "That was….amazing," he said, still out of breath. "The most excitement this room has ever seen."

She leaned back and smiled at him, stroking the side of his face with one hand. "I wanted to make sure you'd remember me," she said softly.

He chuckled, holding her face in his hands and giving her a hard kiss. "You," he said, kissing her again, "are not a woman that any man forgets."

Outside the closed door of the interrogation room they heard voices. Elliot quickly scrambled to fasten his pants and straighten his clothes while Mikka reached for her coat to put it back on.

"Let me go first…." Elliot started to say, and then shook his head, laughing to himself. There was no plausible reason why he and Von, who no longer worked for the city, would be alone in an interrogation room. They'd just have to weather the storm. "Come on," he said, taking her by the hand. They exited the room.

Munch was in the act of placing a sandwich on Elliot's desk. "There you are," he started to say when he saw Elliot emerging from Interrogation One. The look on his face when he saw Mikka right behind him was priceless. It was one of the few times Elliot had ever known Munch to be speechless. From his desk a few feet away, Fin gave a low chuckle and shook his head. Elliot was just glad that it was his fellow detectives who had returned first and not the Captain. Cragen wouldn't be so shy about calling him out on his behavior. He could deal with some ribbing from his co-workers but he didn't need another reprimand in his jacket.

"Be right back," Elliot said, and with his hand on the small of Mikka's back, escorted her out of the squad room. She gave the two smirking detectives an airy wave as she passed by. Elliot had to admire her spunk. Nothing rattled this woman.

They stopped at the street door. "Have a good flight back," he said to her softly. The lobby, full of people, was no place for intimate goodbyes and he had to get back to work before Cragen returned and demanded a status report.

"I will," she assured him, and turned to walk out the door. At the last minute, she turned back, that big grin back on her face.

"Detective Stabler—do you have a web cam?"


End file.
